Eden
by Ravenclaw Red
Summary: A taste of the forbidden fruit is always dangerous, and the fruit itself is bitter and hard to swallow. All of that just...didn't seem to matter. Maria/Altair. One-shot, which means it won't be continued.


A/N: This little piece of fiction was a bit…spontaneous. I was absolutely in love with Assassin's Creed at the time and my mind just wondered off after playing Bloodlines one night. I decided to not be lazy for a change and got down to typing whatever popped into my head. It took about half an hour to type and I'm happy with how it came out. Hope you enjoy and please review if you have the chance. I'd appreciate your thoughts.

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_Was she being foolish?_

Two fingers rested defiantly on her chin, forcing her flushed face up so he could look into her eyes as he lowered his head to brush his lips across hers until they parted beneath the gentle persuasion, until her mouth was completely open to his. She should've been shocked and repulsed when the tip of his tongue deliberately caressed hers, when he voraciously sank against her so he could drink her in, taste her like no other man before him had done. And she ached, even when the only part of him that touched her other than his mouth were the calloused fingers beneath the smooth skin of her heat-tinged chin.

_She never wanted anything like this to happen…_

She could feel the searing heat that radiated from the scantily-clad masculine body mere inches from hers, savor the heady taste of him as he kissed her. Some instinct long repressed by her mind now told her to pull him closer, to sink into the heat until every part of her anatomy was pressed against his, until every lush curve of her feminine body was plastered against the muscles that ran across the expanse of his tall frame. And with every moment he did not touch her, every second his tongue swept her mouth in its slow probing fashion, the heat within her grew and stretched. The flames lapped at her skin greedily, desire swelled and grew within her chest with frightening intensity.

_And now she was doing this with him…_

In fear and perhaps a touch of desperate longing- she didn't know which urge was the strongest- her palms fell flat against the steely wall of his chest for support. Her fingers slid through the rough hair that dusted his sun-kissed skin and trailed down. The muscles flickered and tensed beneath her tentative touch, becoming harder and harder as she palmed the deep grooves of his ribcage in order to explore what she'd been forced to see impersonally in countless occasions while they had traveled together. Her hands searched lower, trailed down the ridges of his abdomen just as his breath hitched in his throat in the form of a savage growl.

_A man who had always seen her as an irksome rash he would very much like to get rid of…_

She'd been irritated with this pig-headed man at some point but the memory was hazy and distant, as if it had been centuries ago and not that morning after discovering he had tossed out the set of knives she had carried with her since her Templar days down one of the cliffs of Masyaf out of suspicion that she would retaliate after a heated argument about her inability to take orders the previous night. The argument was all but forgotten now. She had entered his room that day to poison him- because if she could not stab him with her blades for being the arrogant bastard he was, she would try to get rid of him in any way she could- but she had not expected him to react so…strangely to her murder attempt.

_He was the last thing she'd wanted in her life, and yet..._

She wanted, no, _needed_ to taste him, needed to feel the warmth of his bare flesh against hers. She would come up with some excuse afterwards, would convince herself that she had only done it because it had been too long since she'd last had some affection from anyone and he had been the only man there. And she needed him to touch her in return, to possess her with everything he was, to claim her and make her his own. Even heartless assassins needed a human touch every now and then. The thought brought her some measure of comfort, but thinking about all the women came before her and those that would follow did little to ease the strain that had been tugging at her heart as of late.

_There she was, craving after something she'd had done with other men…_

She would have never stepped into his bedchamber if she had not been fueled by the need to see his eyes dulling in pain as the poison she had emptied into his drink wreaked havoc through his body. She had never expected to find the man without a stitch of clothing on him as he sat on the bed with his assassin's robes tossed over his narrow hips, blocking his exposed lower half from her wide-eyed gaze. She had been too speechless to protest when he had walked over to her and removed her cloak and tunic, too shocked by the heat in his gaze, too anxious to resist what she had always suspected would eventually happen between them. They were lonely and intensely aware of each other. And she had a niggling feeling that she had decided on him long ago. Could she truly resist him now? Inevitable, thy name is lust.

_Only it had never felt like this…_

Their arms intertwined, their legs tangled together and their mouths where everywhere at once. He tasted of sin and spices. His intoxicating scent circled around her head as her heavy lids closed for half a heartbeat. His tongue traced and lapped at hot skin, his teeth nipped and gently sank into her tender flesh as one calloused hand ran along the length of her leg before reaching the juncture of her thigh and beyond, touching and probing ardently where he knew she wanted it the most. She moved mindlessly over his touch, the questing fingers sending shivers up her arched spine. She wished she knew he felt the same heat, the same fission of awareness that skittered through her flesh whenever he was near her. But he was a man of action and men of action had little time for the emotions of wanton fools like her, little patience for the one thing she had always craved the most but feared she would never receive.

_Never before had lust reared its ugly head in her direction, not like this…_

Every touch was slow and languid, like he knew they had all the time in the world to consummate something that was as false as the childish hopes she harbored for them. His lips were scorching when they lingered at her throat, kissed the vulnerable place at the hollow of her throat, fluttered against her shoulder and dipped to torture one breast. His body moved heavily against hers and her reaction was to arch helplessly in order to meet with the eager grinding of his hips. Her life narrowed down to the exquisite pleasure he brought her- nothing beyond those delicious sensations he stirred in her mattered.

_And it scared her that she wanted it so badly…_

He stopped with a sudden abruptness that made her whimper feebly against his shoulder, fingers flexing and nails breaking the skin of his bicep as she clung to him for dear life. The desperate sounds she made were completely foreign to her ears. It didn't sound like her- it wasn't something she normally did- so she blinked and refused to believe it to be true even as she latched onto him. It must've been in her mind, it must've belonged to another person, a naïve and needy young woman in dire need of the physical comfort her companion could offer.

_It scared her that she needed him so much…_

His fingers gripped her hips and dragged her against him before she could even react to the forceful tug. A bit dazed by his sudden move, she tried to sit up just as he kneeled between her thighs. The breath that lodged itself in her throat had little to do with her spinning wits. He slowly eased himself inside her, the feeling not quite as wonderful as his fingers but lovely in how it made her feel pleasantly full and stretched to her limit. At ease for once in her life. Finally complete. The intrusion ensnared her senses. The fact that it was he who was making her feel this way made her stomach churn with both dread and excitement.

"Do go on," It was all she could think of. It sounded absurd, as if she was encouraging him to walk ahead of her on the streets without worrying about her safely, but it was better than whimpering or simply begging him for more.

_Because she already suspected…_

The deep chuckle that escaped him as he shifted slightly to settle deeper between her thighs reverberated through the length of her body. Heaven above, for how long had she been waiting for this moment? She hadn't realized the extent of her desire until he had buried himself to the hilt inside her. Her body longingly throbbed around him, clinging to him as he withdrew and slid into her in the same seductive fashion he had used when he'd first joined them as one. He continued to move back and forth for what seemed to be an eternity while she simply felt, absorbed everything he gave her and everything he was and delighted in the feel of him so intimately pressed against her as he loved her.

_Already knew…_

The tempo grew harder, faster. She wrapped her slender legs around his waist and threw her head back as she savored the moment. So she could feel sensation after delicious sensation streaking like arrows through her body as he rode her into blissful oblivion. He conquered and claimed her to the beat of the blood that pulsed in all of their vulnerable places. This was madness. This was wrong. She had claimed to hate him with everything _she_ was and had always mocked him for everything _he _had been, but she'd fallen into his arms without a blink. No words of protest had escaped past her lusty lips when he'd kissed her. She hadn't even struggled against him in a feeble attempt at putting a stop to their coupling. She was nothing but a hypocrite.

_She'd fallen in love with a man she'd sworn to hate..._

In some distant corner of her mind yet untouched by insanity, she dimly heard him groan, his breath scorching the side of her neck where he'd buried his face. The shudder that racked him triggered something inside her, a coiling, a tightening in her lower abdomen that left her breathless and yearning for more. She wanted him lodged so deep inside her that he touched some part of her yet unsoiled by the hell she had been living for all those years. She wanted his hips rubbing so hard against her that he would make her raw and wipe away the filth she had had to endure during her time with the Templars. She arched upwards and bit back a scream so high-pitched it would've stirred the dead from their eternal sleep and tightened around him as pleasure shook their bodies and stretched endlessly. He collapsed on top of her sedated, satisfied and content. The same way she felt right now, with his body smothering hers protectively.

_And the worst part was…_

And then he was gone, tore away from her as his ragged breathing echoed across the large room that he used as his safe haven from her, leaving her feeling cold and achingly empty. She knew he wanted to avoid the peace that would follow, the intimacy that would be closer than sex and more heart-wrenching than anything they had experienced with anyone before. And she didn't really blame him because she was afraid of what was stirring in her heart as well. Because even though he had wrenched himself away from her body and jumped as far as he possibly could from the bed, she could still feel him on her skin, still feel his heartbeat pounding erratically against her shoulder blade. He huffed and reached for the cup of venom-laced wine and emptied it on the floor, his lips fashioned in a ruthless straight line.

"It will take more than a sour-faced chit and some poison to end my life." Said sour expression crossed her fair features as he walked to his white robe and slid into it, the material clinging to his damp body like a second layer of skin. "Keep that in mind the next time a murderous plot makes its way into your empty head."

The sheen of sweat that covered the skin that the assassin's robes neglected to shield glinted like copper under the light of the oil lamps, the muscles of his abdomen still taunt even though he had already released himself deep inside her womb. She had always been as volatile as the seas she had once sailed and the fierce anger rose within her chest was as familiar as her own heartbeat. Her grey eyes narrowed in his direction as she used her elbows to lift herself from the sweat-soaked sheets of the bed. It was a defense mechanism only he and he alone triggered and she was more than content to put her sharp tongue to use.

"That is it, then?" She humphed and lifted her chin in the proud manner she knew irked him and slid her gaze to the glass panels of the lone window in his bedchambers, as if they had become far more interesting to her than him. "I guess it comes with being an assassin. Always in a hurry…not that I expected any better from _you_. Stamina was never your forte."

His jaw hardened, the glinting bristle of the days beard that had abraded the skin of her neck reminding her that the man who'd just spent long minutes between her legs was made of flesh and bone- as human as she was- and not of cold stone. She also knew his temper was as quick to spark as hers and she knew just where to put the kindle in order to light it. "Is that a challenge?"

"I guess an imbecile like you could view it as such and not as the insult it really is." Even though her voice was cool and distant, a wonderful prickling sensation of heat bubbled in her chest as his eyes hungrily raked the length of her naked body with obvious approval.

"Insatiable minx…" Jaw still hard, he lifted the robes off him again and walked toward the bed with his hot gaze glued to her blank face. His lips curved slightly as she tauntingly beckoned for him to approach her with her finger. "If you want more, you need only ask."

_She didn't regret a single minute of it_.

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A/N: Well, there it is. I tried to make it romantic at the time, but I didn't see them as romantic. I always thought that their encounters would be rough and passionate and maybe it would grow into something a little bit tender as time went on. AC revelations proved me right. Hah! Please review and give me your thoughts.


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